


The Warmth of a Cold War

by B_Radley



Series: Rarities [7]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Corellian Vacation, F/M, Memories, One Night (Not a stand), One night’s healing, Respite, crossing the streams—‘verses that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: Dani’s view of the Night On Corellia.





	The Warmth of a Cold War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SLWalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Blackbirds: Year One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036421) by [SLWalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker). 



> Thanks to SLWalker for the use of Shiv and the prompt for Dani’s viewpoint of Shiv and his brothers on Corellia. Any mistakes are mine.

Dani Faygan lightly runs her fingers over the trooper’s chest. He stirs, murmuring something incomprehensible. She smiles as she sees his face in the low light of Southshield’s night shining in through the window of the hotel. Her brows knit together as he murmurs, as she sees his eyes moving under his lids. The murmur becomes more distinct, if not louder.

_Flanker._

It only takes her a microsecond to realize that he names one of his dead, just from the tone and the furrowed brow. Her heart clinches as she sees a tiny bit of moisture forming under his eyes. She reaches down and gently kisses the moisture away. For a moment, she imagines that his body relaxes.

She knows that the gifts of her mother’s people—not necessarily the ones she had shared with him for the last several waking hours—would allow her to reflect her own emotions to him in the dream; to ease any pain.

She doesn’t. She knows that his pain and his memories may be the only things he has of his own.

Dani reaches over and palms the small glowsphere to a higher level, allowing the violet light to come up slightly. She grins as she looks around the rich furnishings of the room. She can see the Dragon’s face if he happens to see her travel voucher. _Good thing they took the government rate. Much better than the guest room at the substation_.

Probably won’t have to answer the local Inspector’s questions about why she was sneaking an arrestee out of her room, either.

She rises up, lifts her hands and runs them through her hair. _Probably not the swiftest of career moves, there, dumbass_ , she thinks ruefully.

Dani shakes the thoughts away; returns her mind to Shiv and his brothers. She has only known a few of the Republic’s clonetroopers. The ones that she had met had impressed her with their loyalty, as well as their skill. Just like in any other group, she had met a couple that she’d rather not meet again, but the majority had warmed her with their humor and their love for one another.

There was no other word for it. Not just loyalty and camaraderie—pure love. 

It might be all that they had, as well. 

She thinks of the ones that she knows. Drop, her Jedi cousin’s Sergeant, a huge, gruff professional with a slightly different face than the others and a biting streak of sarcasm. The same gruffness hid an almost tender regard and love for his brothers and his Jedi. Those same brothers under his command. Identical faces, each with a different personality, singing and laughing after the horrors they had witnessed. 

The thoughts of another clone officer—a man growing everyday into his role as a Captain, one that no one, least of all himself, would believe him fit for—draws her to the vision of a lone Jedi Master standing against a backdrop of an ocean world. A seemingly serene Togruta huntress with a deep well of compassion and passion that guides her as much as the teachings of the Jedi.

A woman struggling with her role of overseeing the training of these same troopers. A woman who struggles with the concept of a clone army—one with no choice in the matter. A woman who spends her days countermanding the disposal of recalcitrant and injured clones where she can. 

Dani forces the sight of Shaak Ti standing alone on that world to the back of her mind, to the day when she had stood in the Senatorial pod with her half-brother, as he severed relations with the Republic. Severed because of the growing hold on power by one man, all in the name of expediency and emergency. A power that included the creation of this clone army. An army that a number of Jedi generals struggle with the morality of the concept.

A severance tempered by her own occupation. A liaison between CorSec and a Jedi Shadow—standing not for the Republic’s cause, but as a recognition of the darkness that the Separatist leader, Count Dooku and some of his other officers were perpetuating on the galaxy. A war in all but name, but for the light, rather than a political ideal.

A Jedi Shadow, like her a half-Corellian, but where her other half is that of a joyous people, living life to the fullest, his is of a people struggling with a warrior identity of the past and a pacifist ideal of the present. She grins to herself. _Well, somehow my cousin manages to live life pretty fully as well._

Dani stops her reverie as she realizes that a pair of dark amber eyes are gazing at her above a wide grin. She pulls her own wide smile as he reaches up to her face.

His index finger touches the furrowed spot between her brows, caressing it, trying to smooth it away. The backs of his fingers move up to her forehead, repeating the gestures.

“Hey sweetie,” she says. “I wanted you to sleep. All the talking we did; I wanted to make sure you got rested.”

His smirk can be felt a parsec away. “Just the talking?”

“Well, the talking can be the hardest, goofball.”

He looks down. “I’m glad that we did, Dani. All of it.”

She allows her heart to twist at the vulnerable tone of his words, as she reaches down and kisses him, closing her eyes at the myriad of tastes on his lips. 

When they break away, he again reaches up and touches her cheek. “Dani? Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did, but you get another,” she says. She grins. “Sorry. That’s the Corellian side.”

She watches his mind turn as he files that. “That thing that you do with your eyes. When they turn to the black, when we got going. The purple is beautiful, but the shift is incredible.”

She moves her lips to his throat before answering. “It’s called the _modula_ ,” she says. “It’s a physiological thing. It’s an indicator of strong emotion.” She gazes at him directly. “All emotion.” She reaches down and kisses each of his eyes. “I’m not the only one with beautiful eyes in this bed.” She laughs. “Be careful. If the shift is accompanied by my skin turning a much darker red, then stand by. It means you’re in deep shit.”

She gasps as one finger moves a lot further down than her face. “I’ll try to remember that,” he says dryly.

Her breathing intensifies as he keeps the finger working in that spot. She tries to concentrate on his next question.

“I saw your name on the bill. Your full name. How do you pronounce it?”

She grits her teeth as the sensations move from her middle to her speech centers. She concentrates on opening the resonance, to reflect those sensations to him. She grins as she feels the fruits of her success against her. She kisses him. 

“DAHN-er-ran,” she manages against his skin, almost dropping the last syllable.

“Daaineran,” he repeats, as their mouths meld again.

“Not bad,” she says.

“Got a few hours to practice,” Shiv replies.

“Yeah, well, there’s other things you can get good at in that time,” she says.

“Oh, really?” he asks. “So the pounding on the walls from the next room for your noise was just because I was rehearsing for the main event?”

“Well, yeah,” she replies. She squeaks as he flips her over.

“Guess I need to get started, then.”

He wastes no time in moving his lips down her torso, saying her name with every move. Intentionally mispronouncing it differently with each touch of his lips or tongue. 

She finds herself laughing, as well as producing other noises as he takes his time.

The other noises increase over the laughter as his mouth finally reaches his objective; as fireballs build in her mind.

She runs her fingers through his hair. She concentrates on the emotions of the heart, the mind, and the body—the triumvirate of the Zeltron soul, focusing on all of them.

As she does, all thoughts of fear and worry for her loves; for him and his brothers, for Corellia and the galaxy, disappear from her mind. She fixates on the light.

Dani Faygan feels the warmth, rather than the cold.


End file.
